


expect the unexpected

by exarite



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Anxiety, Famous Chris, Fans, Groupies, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-31
Updated: 2018-01-31
Packaged: 2019-03-11 18:31:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,579
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13530102
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/exarite/pseuds/exarite
Summary: Yuuri finds himself with backstage passes to his favorite band’s concert.  All Yuuri expects is a commemorative picture--that is, if he manages not to faint at sight of his idol.He does not expect Viktor Nikiforov's guitarist, sex symbol Christophe Giacometti, to slip his number into Yuuri's pocket.Nothing that night goes how he expects.





	expect the unexpected

**Author's Note:**

> PLEASE check end notes for warning if you're sensitive about consent issues (but not really??) and anxiety. i don't want to put it here for spoilers.

 

"If you faint, maybe Viktor Nikiforov will feel obligated to nurse you back to health," Phichit teases and Yuuri groans, covering his face.

"Please," he begs, "Don't even joke about that."

He thinks about passing out in front of Viktor's feet, and the very idea of it makes him feel sick and queasy. He bites his lip, looking around at the grey walls around him in an effort to distract his rising panic.

"You won't pass out," Yuuko soothes from his other side as she rubs his arm and Yuuri furiously shakes his head.

"Don't jinx it," he squeaks.

"Don't worry," Phichit snickers, and then sends him an exaggerated wink. "We'll be there to make sure you don't faint in Viktor's arms."

Yuuri weakly shoves at Phichit shoulder, but his friend just laughs, unfazed and loud enough that they catch the eye of several other backstage pass holders. Yuuri huffs.

Looking back, Yuuri thinks that maybe he was worrying about the wrong thing.

*

Yuuri stands in front of Viktor Nikiforov, his eyes wide. His eyes dart all over his features, his body, frantically trying to take the whole of him in the scant seconds that he has in their presence. Yuuko and Phichit are already on Viktor's and Chris' sides respectively, looking at him with a mix of expectation and amusement. Yuri, the perpetually annoyed drummer of their band, is on the other side of Yuuko. He looks impatient, a slight glare in the furrow of his eyebrows that Yuuri bets would be a full on glare if Yuri weren’t obligated to play nice. Finally there’s Georgi, Legend’s bassist, who’s standing on the other side of Phichit and smiling at Yuuri.

"Aw," Chris croons, eyebrows raised and a smirk playing on his pouty lips. "Aren't you cute?" His tone is teasing and playful, but there's no mocking in it, no matter how hard Yuuri searches.

Yuuri reddens, laughing nervously as he releases the breath he didn't even know he was holding. He keeps his eyes on Chris, scared that if he looks at Viktor his eyes will burn in his unworthiness or that Viktor will somehow know of all the dirty fantasies that Yuuri has had of him.

"Come here," Chris calls, and Yuuri shuffles towards them nervously. He feels dazed as they pose, him in between Chris and Viktor, their sides a warm length on his. All Yuuri can think right now is how good the both of them smell. He has to mentally stop himself from leaning in closer towards Viktor to sniff at his hair or his cologne.

“Okay, ready?” The photographer calls out. Yuuri forces a strained smile on his face. Inside, Yuuri feels like he’s about to faint or throw up—or hell, both.

“1, 2, 3, smile!”

They take the picture, and compared to the time the three of them spent waiting outside the backstage area, it goes by in a second. Before Yuuri even knows it, they're already walking away from the four of them.

He lets himself have one last look. He accidentally meets Christophe Giacometti’s eyes, and his eyes widen, the embarrassed flush from earlier reappearing on his cheeks. Chris winks at him, puckering his lips and blowing a kiss.

Flustered, Yuuri looks away.

Later, as they’re lining up to buy food, Yuuri pulls out his wallet from his jacket pocket. A slip of paper falls out.

Yuuri frowns as he bends down to pick it up. The moment he sees what’s written, he freezes, his jaw dropping open and a red flush heating up his cheeks.

It’s a phone number.

And Chris Giacometti’s signature, bold and pink.

*

After a mild panic attack, and much convincing, Yuuri finally agrees to text Christophe Giacometti. It takes a lot from Phichit and Yuuko for Yuuri to finally agree, and it takes a lot of minutes before Yuuri even has the guts to type in Chris’ phone number on his phone.

He still can’t help but think, what if it’s a joke? What if Chris is just fucking with him? Yuuri’s so plain, and uninteresting, and he can’t see what it was about him that caught Chris’ eye.

It’s not even that Yuuri’s worried he’s just another fan. Rumor has it that Chris is fond of taking groupies back to his hotel room and Yuuri’s never considered himself a groupie before— but well, according to Phichit and Yuuko, he shouldn’t pass up the opportunity.

Yuuri takes in a deep breath, and at Yuuko’s gentle goading, he presses send.

**Yuuri: Hey this is Yuuri, from earlier. You gave me your number?**

Chris replies only minutes later.

**Chris: Where you staying?**

Yuuri releases the breath he didn’t even know he was still holding. He wavers slightly, but Yuuko and Phichit both give him supportive smiles.

**Yuuri: Kuyana Hotel**

**Chris: Sending a car to pick you up. Be ready by 7 *kissy face***

Yuuri looks up, his face beet red and Yuuko and Phichit both stare at him expectantly, their eyes bright and hands clasped in front of them.

“He said he’ll pick me up at 7,” Yuuri squeaks and Yuuko squeals.

*

Yuuri fiddles with the cuffs of his shirt, gnawing on his lip. He’s a little embarrassed that Chris is picking him up in a hotel like this. It well, it isn’t _that_ bad. It isn’t a motel, for one, and it’s still in the better part of town, but still.

In his defense, this was all the three of them could afford for two nights in their budget, and Yuuri had completely forgotten just how… sketchy, the hotel was in face of Christophe Giacometti’s texts.

He should have given a different, higher end hotel name and then walked or took a cab or _something_ there. Anything was better than this.

Maybe it wasn’t too late. Maybe Yuuri could still do that. He frowned and pulled out his phone.

Before he could even unlock his phone to send a text changing the location of where he’s supposed to get picked up, he gets a text.

**Chris: Outside, sweetheart**

Oh no. Okay. Guess it was a little too late then.

Yuuri takes in a deep breath and nods to himself. It’s fine, everything is fine. Chris didn’t seem the type to be shallow enough that he’d change his mind over what someone’s hotel looked like. It was just dinner. And sex, possibly. Hopefully. Maybe.

It’s way too early to get ahead of himself. Yuuri bites down on the inside of his cheek and drags himself out the door. He sees nothing at first, and then promptly jumps when a sleek black car pulls up next to him on the road. Yuuri stares curiously, hesitating slightly, but his doubts die down when the window rolls down and Chris gives him a slow smile from the back.

Yuuri ducks his head and opens the door. For a moment, Chris doesn’t move and Yuuri’s scared that Chris is expecting him to sit on his lap or something, but then Chris moves to slide to the other side of the car.

Yuuri sits down on the seat that Chris had just vacated, glancing at the older man surreptitiously. Chris catches him looking and then smirks. Yuuri reddens and looks away. Damn it.

Yuuri won’t admit it, but the moment they pull up to a normal family restaurant, he relaxes. It’s not fast food, but it’s not a high-end Michelin star restaurant. Normal. This, he could somewhat handle.

And of course, Chris orders a bottle of wine from the get go.

"Oh," Yuuri says nervously. He gnaws on his lip and looks away. "I'm not 21."

Chris audibly chokes and Yuuri's eyes widen in concern, already reaching out to to hit Chris' back but Chris simply waves him off. He wheezes slightly, holding his hand to his chest and coughing a bit. All Yuuri can do is stare at him, hands fluttering uselessly on top of the dinner table.

"How old are you?" Chris demands, obviously visibly upset and Yuuri shrinks into himself. Fuck, this was a mistake.

"I'm 19,” he says quietly and Chris stares, his jaw slack. Yuuri reddens at the intensity of his gaze and looks down at his plate, wishing that the Earth would just swallow him whole.

"Fuck," Chris laughs, and leans away from him in his chair as he shakes his head. He drags a hand over his face, and rubs at his beard thoughtfully. “You scared me. I’m a little older than you.”

"You're only 23,” Yuuri can't help but say and Chris blinks, before he laughs again. It's almost as if his laughter was shocked out of him and Yuuri feels his face heat up again.

“A little older than you,” Chris repeats with a smirk. Yuuri doesn't know how to reply to that, so he simply nods. Chris hums thoughtfully, and Yuuri watches as he seems to look around the room before his gaze finally settles on to Yuuri's again. Yuuri stays quiet as Chris puts his elbow on the table and then drops his head on his hand, eyes focused on Yuuri.

"Is that not a problem for you?" Chris asks, and there's genuine and serious curiosity in his tone. All of the heavy flirtatiousness from earlier is almost gone, just hints of it peeking through the way Chris tilts his head just so, or the flutter of his eyelashes. He looks strangely subdued like this.

Yuuri clears his throat, trying to force down any untoward sound. "If it's not a problem with you," he says boldly. He opens his mouth to add something, or say more, but Yuuri already used up all of his energy and confidence in that one statement. All he can do now is fall back into silence and slump back into his seat, hands twisting at the table cloth in front of him. God, Chris must think he's desperate or boring or both. Yuuri doesn't know which is worse.

"Oh." Chris smirks, biting on his bottom lip in a sensual motion. Yuuri's immediately entranced. "It's definitely not a problem, Yuuri."

Yuuri never thought his name could be said that way. The heat in Chris' tone sends a frisson of tingling desire straight down to the pit of his stomach.

Slowly, Chris takes a long sip of champagne. The whole time, his gaze never leaves Yuuri's.

The promise in his eyes is enough to make Yuuri burn from inside out.

They eat, and the whole time there’s an undercurrent of tension, and friction, and expectation of where the night will go. Yuuri is excited and scared, but more scared, and his mind is running through everything that could go wrong, if he has a condom, if he’d be good at it.

Chris’ foot plays with his, sliding up his ankles and Yuuri swallows. Chris smiles at him from over his glass of wine, slow, languid and the definition of seductive.

Yuuri has no doubt what Chris wants from him.

*

The moment they enter Chris’ hotel room, Chris’ mouth is instantly on his. Yuuri moans in surprise, hands coming up to fist at the back of Chris’ shirt.

He’s a great kisser, Yuuri thinks distantly, but of course he is. Before he even knows it, Chris is maneuvering them to the large king bed in the center of the room and Yuuri follows because he doesn’t know what else to do.

He falls back, and Chris climbs on top of him, his mouth peppering kisses down Yuuri’s jaw to his neck and Yuuri’s hands clench at his biceps.

Chris pulls away to stare down at him, desire clear in his eyes and Yuuri swallows.

There's something about the sight of Chris hovering above him, and how much bigger he is than Yuuri that makes Yuuri's heart race. It's not the good kind.

His breathing picks up, vision going hazy as panic starts to overcome the careful barrier that Yuuri put up. Even the dullness from the arousal isn't enough to overwhelm the anxiety that’s threatening to consume him. He’s never done this before, he’s always been a little more drunk (because screw underage drinking laws), but Chris had playfully kept most of the wine away from him and this is _Chris Giacometti_.

There must be something revealing on his face, because Chris frowns, carefully pulling even his hands away.

"Do you still want to do this?" Chris asks. Concern lines his features and Yuuri opens his mouth, but no words come out.

Yuuri swallows, and stares up at him. He wants to nod, wants to say yes, of course. He wants to take Chris’ face into his hands and kiss him deeper and he wants to feel Chris’ naked body against his—

But he’s scared. He’s not sure if he wants to do this.

“I—“

Chris backs away from him, and the loss of the heat from his body is simultaneously a relief and regret. Yuuri hurriedly grips Chris’ arm, eyes wide and beseeching.

“Just… Slow, please,” he begs, and a sense of shame immediately fills him.

Chris stares down at him, hesitant, and Yuuri squeezes his eyes shut before he wraps an arm around Chris’ neck to pull him down and kiss him.

He tries to push away his discomfort and hide it, but when Chris’ hands start to play with the button of his jeans, he stiffens instinctively. He’s afraid, he’s not ready, all he wants to do is run and hide.

Chris freezes too, and then he pulls away for real this time, his eyes dark.

They’re silent, and Yuuri squeezes his eyes shut in shame. His hands are trembling by his sides and he has no doubt that Chris has noticed them by now. God, he wants this, but he doesn’t. Chris probably thinks he’s a prude now, probably regretting picking Yuuri out of the thousands of men and women who’d literally kill to have this chance.

“I’m going to take a shower,” Chris suddenly says and Yuuri opens his eyes in surprise. He blinks, but Chris’ face is unreadable. There’s a moment where Yuuri just feels so _confused_ , but then Chris smiles at him. It’s nothing like the smiles from earlier, all seduction and heat. It’s kinder. Yuuri likes this smile a lot more.

“Okay?” Yuuri says, and it’s a question, but Chris doesn’t answer. He gets off from Yuuri and Yuuri can see how hard he is in his pants but Chris seems unbothered. Still slightly stunned, all Yuuri can do is watch as Chris enters the bathroom.

He lies back on the bed, frowning thoughtfully to himself. All he can do now is think. He regrets it a little that him and Chris aren’t doing anything _more_ right now, but he can’t deny that the sense of relief that they’re not doing anything is overwhelming.

He doesn’t know how long it’s been until he hears the click of the bathroom door opening. He looks up and blushes slightly.

Yuuri tries not to stare as Chris comes out of the bathroom, round specs on his face. Chris meets Yuuri's eyes and smiles, his face softening, and despite himself, Yuuri feels his cheeks redden. His heartbeat races tight against his chest and Yuuri finds his hands twisting into his bedsheets.

Cute, Yuuri thought. See, cute wasn't a word that Yuuri ever thought he'd use to describe Chris, but cute and its synonyms were the only words he could think of right now. Before, hot, sexy or well, erotic, were the only words he could describe Chris with.

Regardless, no matter what word you use, Chris is, 100%, definitely attractive. Yuuri is so attracted to him, and he doubts that anyone can resist Chris and his appeal when he's right in front of you.

He already feels awkward, about to burst out of his own skin. He's never really stayed in the rooms of the past guys he's hooked up with, and if he has, it's only because he woke up the morning after. (He's always sneaked out anyway after that.) And now, him and Chris haven’t even hooked up, per say, yet Yuuri is still here and he has no basis, no clue on what to do.

Yuuri wants to run, or hide, or do something, but surprisingly, Chris immediately sets him at ease as he plops beside Yuuri and turns on the TV. Yuuri stares at him, and at Chris' surprised huff of laughter, he turns to face the screen. He's met with the sight of another Chris, younger and with his hair brown. It’s an old music video, from the band’s earlier days when they were just on the verge of becoming famous. The Chris on screen is just a little younger than him.

"That's actually my natural hair color," Chris confides and Yuuri almost says 'I know'. Thankfully, his brain catches up with his mouth before Yuuri can expose himself as Trash™. Instead, he just makes a noncommittal sound that hopefully doesn't say much. Yuuri could give Chris the exact date, article and magazine that featured Legend’s new look—Viktor with his hair cut, Chris with his hair dyed, and an overall more mature persona for all of them.

Yuuri is still nervous, but Chris's soft, murmuring voice explaining behind the scenes and never before heard info of the music video they're watching is interesting enough for Yuuri's fanboy side. Chris is undoubtedly not Victor Nikiforov, but Yuuri is still definitely A Fan.

"Yeah, this took like a hundred takes because Mickey didn't like it whenever I'd touch Sara." Chris chuckles. "He's a real bitch about it, I hate working with both of them at the same time."

"What?" Yuuri asks in surprise, "So how did you film the kissing scene?"

Chris snorts and shakes his head. "Michele had to stay somewhere else. He hates this video.”

Hesitantly, Yuuri eyes him and then scoots over until they’re pressed right against each other. Without even looking at him, Chris reaches over to place an arm around his shoulders and draw him close. Yuuri relaxes and burrows his head on Chris’ chest, breathing in the clean scent of him.

Chris’ hand strokes up his arms, a slow up and down that sets Yuuri at ease. There’s nothing sexual about it, and for once this whole night, Yuuri can relax.

Chris doesn’t bring up Yuuri’s near panic attack from earlier and for that, Yuuri wants to just melt into his arms.

“Tell me more about yourself,” Chris murmurs. “Enough about me and Legend.”

Yuuri almost wants to protest. He likes hearing about Legend and behind the scenes. But he owes Chris this much. No one has ever been this patient with him before, none of the frat boys would have even thought to check Yuuri’s enthusiasm.

And so he tells Chris about him. About his dreams, what it was like to move from Japan to cold Detroit, and about Yuuko and Phichit.

And Chris listens.

It’s not the night that Yuuri had imagined for himself, but it’s good, it’s great and he feels good about it.

When the show that had been playing in the background finishes, Chris turns to him and presses a gentle kiss to his lips.

“You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do, full heartedly,” he says seriously and Yuuri swallows. “Nothing, Yuuri. Not with me, not with anyone else.”

“I just thought…” Yuuri trails off and looks away. “I just thought that you’d be expecting sex.”

Chris chuckles. “I was, but it’s fine. I like the cuddling almost as much as it.”

And so that’s what they do. They cuddle. Chris confides in him, and Yuuri in Chris. They talk until slowly, Yuuri falls asleep.

*

The next morning, Yuuri wakes Chris up before he leaves. Yuuko and Phichit have come to pick him up. If they had had sex last night, if Yuuri was a little more drunk, then Yuuri knows that he would have just gathered his clothes and left without a goodbye.

Chris blinks up at him, bleary eyed and then proceeds to languidly stretch. He yawns, and it’s unfair how he’s still so attractive even just having woken up.

“Let me bring you down,” Chris grunts and Yuuri backs away to nod.

Chris takes only a few minutes to freshen up before he walks with Yuuri to the elevator. They’re both quiet as it travels, but Chris looks sleepy enough that Yuuri doesn’t try to make conversation. He doesn't quite know what to say anyway.

When they reach the lobby, Yuuko and Phichit are already there waiting for him.

“It was nice meeting you,” Chris says and smiles. He bends down to buss his cheek against Yuuri’s and without even thinking, Yuuri reaches out.

He grips onto Chris’ hand. He’s unbelievably embarrassed, but he’d forever regret not saying anything.

“I just wanted to say thank you,” Yuuri blurts out, face red as he stares down at his feet. “And—if ever you’re in the area…” He trails off, and the amused look on Chris’ face turns unbelievably fond.

“You should text me,” Yuuri finishes in a breathless whisper. He swallows and looks away, letting his hand drop to the side as he releases Chris’ hand.

He jolts in surprise when Chris takes his hand back in between his and he can’t help but look up. Chris smiles at him and then presses a kiss to Yuuri’s knuckles.

“I look forward to it.”

**Author's Note:**

> there's a part in the middle where yuuri has seconds thoughts and feels anxious and uncomfortable with what they're doing. Chris backs off immediately. if you think i should add tags to this, please let me know!! thank you!
> 
> so!!! enthusiastic consent, my friends!! never feel like you have to have sex because it's expected of you. i have a lot of thoughts about the recent issues with celebrities and #MeToo.
> 
> this is a pretty short piece, it was intended to be longer but if it was, it would have taken me a few more months to finish. i started this on aug 14.... and finished it today. so. yes.
> 
> i am on [tumblr](https://gia-comeatme.tumblr.com)!


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